


In Gemini of Eternity

by puss_nd_boots



Series: Stargazer [4]
Category: Alice Nine
Genre: Begging, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 20:12:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1524068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puss_nd_boots/pseuds/puss_nd_boots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hiroto, wiped after a long day of CD release events, takes some time to truly listen to what they created for the first time - and learns there's more to the lyrics than he thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Gemini of Eternity

**Author's Note:**

> Fourth installment in my very first Alice Nine series, written in 2011 to commemorate the release of their Gemini album.

A February Saturday night in Tokyo. Young people are prowling the streets, dressed in to the nines in Goth Loli and punk and goth and assorted other finery. Salarymen are doing what they do best after hours, eating ramen and getting drunk. Tourists are emerging from the subways, announcing loudly that it’s SO COOL how each station plays a different little song as the train arrives and departs.

And at the entranceway of one particular apartment building, a certain guitarist is having a hard time staying on his feet.

Hiroto is leaning against the doorway as Shou fumbles for his keys. It’s been a long day. A very long day. It started with them doing that Nico Nico in the morning (at least this one didn’t involve his bottom getting smacked, though Hiroto is apprehensive about what the “later punishment” is going to consist of). And then came the CD signing, which they were told was attended by 3,000 fangirls. Which meant each of them signed 600 CDs. No wonder his right hand feels like it’s going to drop off his body. (Hiroto really hopes that won’t happen. It would make playing guitar rather difficult.)

Then, it was off to Tower Records for more pictures and more signing, this time of a poster for the store’s wall. The day felt as long as the recording process of Gemini itself.

“You okay?” Shou says, turning to his lover as he finally gets the door open (with his left hand, because he’s hurting as well). He holds the door open.  
Hiroto just answers with an “mmph” as he manages to push off the doorway and walk into the building. All he needs to do is stay upright until they get upstairs, and then he can collapse on the bed. Of course, there’s always the couch if he can’t make it to the bed, but the couch carries a greater risk of cats walking on him in the middle of the night.

Once they’re in the elevator, Shou wraps an arm around Hiroto (his left, Hiroto notices). “Hey,” he says. “I’m tired, too. But it was a really good day. Getting to see all those fans . . .” His face takes on something of a dreamy expression. “There were so many, Hiroto. So many of them. When I was a kid, I used to dream about having a lot of people listening to my music, but this . . .”

Hiroto just leans his head against Shou, breathing in the familiar scent of coffee and soymilk and Bvlgari Black. He’ll think about what today meant for them, and for the band . . . after he gets some rest.

“Think of all of them going home and listening to our CD,” Shou says as they exit the elevator, and he takes out his keys again. “Think of all of them taking in everything we worked on for so long.”

Hiroto just lets out another “mmph.” All he’s thinking of now is a pillow. Preferably the nice, fat ones Shou has on his bed. Usually, they’re good for propping under certain body parts one wanted their partner to have better access to during sex. But that’s the last thing in the world he wants now.  
The door pings and opens, and Hiroto is still heavily leaning on Shou as they make their way to the apartment door. His feet feel like lead as he lifts them to take his shoes off. One of the cats comes running toward the couple as they enter, sniffing at Hiroto with his usual curiosity (they’re still not used to the more-frequent-than-before presence of The Little Person Who Smells Of Dog). Hiroto wants to bend over and pet his stepcat, but that would mean risking keeling over and passing out in the middle of Shou’s living room.

He doesn’t think his lover would appreciate stepping over him for the rest of the evening.

Shou, meanwhile, still seems lost in his own world, and is still talking happily about today’s event. “When we first started, and we were playing tiny, little hole-in-the wall live houses, I never thought we were going to get to a point like this. The very idea of having so many people turn up for us . . .” The couple walks through the door of the bedroom, and Shou perches on the edge of the bed, still lost in his reverie. “It’s everything I’ve ever hoped for, Hiroto. Everything, and more. The way the album came out, and Budokan, and now the new tour in the spring . . .”

Silence from his lover. He turns around. “Hiroto?”

Hiroto is face-down on the bed, eyes tightly closed and breathing slow and deep. Shou smiles gently to himself. Of course, Hiroto’s wiped. He’s pretty tired himself, but . . .

Hiroto had been up earlier than him, after all – he’d had breakfast on the table when Shou first woke up. He was bouncing all over the place, too, his usual hyperness turned up to about ten.

“You were looking forward to this even more than I was, weren’t you?” Shou says, gently, running the back of his hand over Hiroto’s forehead, sweeping the hair away from his eyes. No response from his lover – he’s out like a light.

Shou gets up and moves to the linen closet, taking out his spare blanket and spreading it over Hiroto. Pausing next to the bed, he strips off his shirt and pants, draping them over a chair. He then lies next to him, pulling the blanket over them both and snuggling against Hiroto.

This is something he dared not dream about, either, back when he was afraid of love.

* * *

It’s several hours later when Hiroto wakes up. He yawns and stretches as his foggy brain puts the pieces together. Lying on Shou’s bed. Shou sleeping next to him. Still wearing his clothes. Yes, he passed out as soon as he walked in the door. Which meant he didn’t even take off the makeup that had been carefully applied before this morning’s Webcast. Good Lord, he must look like he’d been pushed face-first in a puddle of melted crayons now.

He gets up and goes into the bathroom. Before he exits, he scrubs off whatever’s on his face, without looking in the mirror. He also pulls off his Official Gemini Costume, which looks like it had been run over by a truck. Fortunately, PSC has an Officially Designated Dry Cleaner For Artist Use.

Hiroto decides to make a pitstop in the kitchen before going back to bed. On the way there, he crosses into the living room, where he sees one of the copies of the Deluxe Edition of their new CD sitting on the coffee table.

He sits down and picks up the disc, turning it around in his hand, looking at the cover with the double image of the American model (who Saga had wanted to converse with, but the only words he could remember in English were obscenities. Hiroto is sure Tora was glad of that). This was the cause of all the hubub today, of the event-after-event and the crowds of fangirls.

They’d started work on this disc in the fall, back when Hiroto wasn’t quite sure what to make of life. On the one hand, they were going to play Budokan, and their recent singles were successful, and they had a monthly Webcast and tons of magazine layouts . . .

And on the other hand, Hiroto was longing for a man who, at the time, he thought might never return his feelings.

He finds himself walking over to Shou’s CD player, turning it on and pushing the button to pop out the tray.

It’s the music wafting from the living room that wakes Shou up. He rolls over, reaching for where Hiroto was before, and coming up empty. That wakes him up completely, and he heads to the source of the sound to see his lover sitting on the floor, wearing only his briefs, listening intently to “Entra’cte” coming from the speakers.

Hiroto hears the stirring in the doorway. He looks up to see Shou. “I haven’t really listened to it yet,” he says, quietly. “I mean, I’ve heard it – you know, the playbacks when we were recording it, and mixing it – but I haven’t _listened._ The way one of our fans would.”

Shou walks over and sits on the floor next to Hiroto. The music switches over to “Senkou.” Hiroto thinks that the song sounds entirely different – transformed, almost – within the context of the full album, even though they haven’t altered it since it was recorded several months ago.

“This album . . . it’s a whole year of our lives, isn’t it?” Shou says. “Well, most of a year. The earliest tracks were recorded in the spring.” It seems like another lifetime ago to him now, when they were planning the Flash Light From the Past tour and first developing the ideas that would become this album . . . and he was being an idiot when it came to love.

“I didn’t write much for this one,” Hiroto says, thoughtfully. “Barely anything. Just that one song, and it was with Saga. Well, and that instrumental, but that’s not on this version of the album.” This was his least creative period, really, at least in terms of songwriting. People probably thought it was because he was spreading himself thin, working with both Alice Nine and Karasu. Little did they know what was going on in his personal life.

“You’re all over this album, though,” Shou says. “I was thinking about you when I was writing the lyrics. A lot. I wasn’t admitting it to myself, of course, but . . .” He falls silent, and they listen as the album progresses to “Fuurin.”

“The part in English, at the end of ‘4U?’ He reaches for Hiroto’s hand. “It was in English because I wanted to say it to you, but . . . I wasn’t ready to say it in Japanese yet.”

Hiroto swallows hard. “I know some English, Shou.” And then, after a pause – “And Korean.” That last part is relevant to absolutely nothing at this point, of course. It fell out of a crack in a brain that had been thoroughly blown by what Shou had just said. He knows full well what those words at the end of the song mean, and they carry a heavy, heavy intimacy.

Could Shou have recognized in Hiroto not just a companion and a lover, but a soul mate? Is that what he was running away from when he slept with other men, the idea of being that closely intertwined with someone?

“I’m ready to say it to you now,” Shou says, pulling Hiroto into his arms. “In any language you want.”

They are both silent again as the title song begins playing. How appropriate that this long, intricate piece about love both begins and ends with only Shou’s voice and Hiroto’s guitar. They remain silent, and nestle into a comfortable position, with Hiroto’s head nestled into the crook of Shou’s neck and shoulder.

When “Birth in the Death” ends, Shou reaches up and skips the CD player backward, until it reaches the fourth track. “Just listen,” he says.

The song is, of course, “4U.” And Hiroto listens, and he knows. There’s references to celestial bodies in there – that should have pointed to him all along, shouldn’t it? And the lyrics speak of love, and fever, and never being alone. “Because we’re sad, we cry, because we’re happy, we smile. We will always be playing on that same path.”

And finally, the part in English at the end, about the perfect union of opposites – “Light and shadow, heaven and earth, birth and death . . .”

“See?” Shou says, gently placing his fingers under Hiroto’s chin and turning his face toward him. “I meant every word, and every word was, well . . .”

There’s no need for him to finish. Hiroto closes the little remaining distance between them and seals their lips together.

It doesn't take Shou long to respond, wrapping his arms around Hiroto and pulling him closer, almost instantly pushing his tongue forward. He feels it connect with Hiroto's and lets out a small moan, reaching up to tangle his fingers in the blond hair and pull him closer still, as if they could dissolve into each other.

“Bed,” he gasps between kisses. Unless, of course, they wanted to do it right here on the floor – which might be nice, but the bed is only a few steps away and so much more comfortable. And he doesn't want anything to get in the way of enjoying this.

Fortunately, they're both wearing nothing but their underwear, so once they've stood up and walked to the bedroom, there isn't much clothing to shed. They tumble to the mattress, naked and breathing rapidly as they wrap their arms around each other again, mouths coming together with hunger.

Hiroto reaches down and finds a nipple, squeezing it very gently, feeling the flesh harden under his touch. He loves this so much, loves doing something and feeling Shou respond. The fact that he can evoke so much pleasure in the body of this man that he loves is almost as arousing as feeling Shou do these things to him.  
He breaks his lips away, only to start kissing down Shou's neck, knowing that's one of the things that brings a moan from his lover. He sucks a little as his lips touch the sensitive flesh, wishing he really could leave a mark on him – but he can't do anything the makeup artists would have to conceal. So he does something that will definitely leave no marks instead – he runs his tongue from the bottom of Shou's neck to the top, a long, slow lick like an ice cream cone. The loud “aaah!” he hears is definitely a fitting reward for his efforts.

Moving down further, he finds the nipple he was pleasuring before and slides his tongue over it, savoring the feel of the hard little peak. Lowering his head, he wraps his lips around it and sucks, still tonguing it, and this time, Shou calls out, hoarsely, “Oh, God, Hiroto, you do that so well!”

If his efforts are being appreciated, then, he'll keep at them. He moves his head to the other nipple, and he licks at it, feeling it stiffen under his tongue. His lover's body wriggles under him as he continues to lap, and then suck.

He loves doing this, he has to admit. He's heard that not all men have sensitive nipples, and he's very lucky that Shou is among those who does.

And then he pauses, raising his head and looking into Shou's eyes, both of them fully panting now. He knows what the older man is expecting next – for Hiroto to move down to his erection.

So he decides to tease him a little. He moves down, all right, slowly sliding down Shou's body, leaving kisses along his stomach every few inches.

The trembling of the singer's body, the purring sounds he's making, tell Hiroto Shou is definitely waiting to be sucked . . . so, of course, he bypasses the hard organ entirely and heads lower, until he reaches Shou's legs. When he gets there, he caresses the thighs with his hands, bringing about a loud moan.

“Hiroto, what . . .”

But instead of answering, Hiroto begins kissing his way down Shou's leg, exploring, feeling how taut and hard the muscle is here under his lips. It's quite a lengthy journey – Shou has what's called “legs that go on for days.” It's part of what makes him cut such an impressive figure onstage, especially when he puts one leg up on something and leans over.

Right now, it's serving to heighten the anticipation, as Hiroto moves down further, nipping a little at his kneecap, then down his calf. Shou is letting out little whimpers of frustration now. Hiroto will make sure he's rewarded for his patience – when the time comes.

Sometimes, he can't believe himself how aggressive he can be in bed. It was Shou who unlocked this side of him. He can't imagine being this way for anyone else.

Once he finally reaches Shou's feet, he pulls himself to his knees at the foot of the bed, takes the foot in his hand and raises it, placing it against his shoulder and guiding it down his naked body. Shou lets out a sharp noise of surprise at the unexpected feel of naked flesh against his sole – this wasn't something he was anticipating, wasn't something he'd even thought about. He lifts his head so he can watch as his foot slides over Hiroto's chest and stomach, the very, well, craziness of the act making it that much more exciting.

Hiroto finally decides he's teased enough. He puts Shou's foot down and moves back up his body, not even bothering to go the slow and teasing route this time, and positions himself at Shou's erection, wrapping his fingers around the base and starting to run his tongue over the tip. His lips envelop the head, and he purrs as he starts to slide down on it, feeling the familiar, delicious sensation of the hardness sliding into his mouth.

He starts to suck, and Shou's upper half arches off the bed, the older man letting out a choked near-sob of gratitude and satisfaction as he feels the sensation he's been craving so much all along, the hot wetness engulfing and enveloping him, the suction that sends tendrils of sensation shooting through his body. Hiroto isn't going to have to do this for very long, Shou is already so worked up that he feels like a bowstring about to snap.

Hiroto moves down further, taking Shou deeper into his mouth, one hand still caressing the base of his erection. The other slides up his body, moving over his stomach and chest, brushing over a nipple. Shou then grabs the hand in both of his own and guides it up still further, to his mouth. He knows that Hiroto's hands are an erogenous zone - time for some revenge for the teasing he got earlier.

As Hiroto sucks faster, his head moving back and forth as he lets his tongue brush over Shou's cock, Shou begins to lightly run his tongue over Hiroto's fingers, just brushing over the tips. He feels a brief pause in the sucking as the pleasure registers in Hiroto's mind, and he begins to slide the index finger into his mouth, sucking on it the way Hiroto is sucking on him. This just makes Hiroto give out a low, purring moan, which vibrates through Shou's aching erection, making the older man arch off the bed again, sucking the finger twice as fast and hard.

Which just makes Hiroto moan again, sending a stronger vibration through Shou, and now the vocalist is trembling on the verge of orgasm, moaning as he pulls the finger from his mouth. He slides it back in quickly, though, along with a second, and when Hiroto moans this time, the vibration is strong enough to set Shou off. He arcs gracefully off the mattress, letting out a wordless cry as he's flooded with ecstasy.

Hiroto continues to suck on him until he's swallowed all his essence, and then he moves up, kissing Shou's lips, laughing a little as he finds himself almost instantly flipped over onto his back. Shou nips at his neck, then moves down to nibble along his collarbone, letting his tongue tease the flesh. "I know what you want," he murmurs in a low, teasing voice.

"Mmm?" Hiroto raises his head. "Then why don't you give it to me?"

"You need to ask." And Shou brings Hiroto's hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it but not letting his tongue touch it this time - not until Hiroto gave the word. "Ask me, and I'll do it."

"I want you to make me come," Hiroto replies, breathlessly, as Shou kisses the back of his hand again. He was probably asking for this teasing, with what he was doing earlier.

"Say please?" Shou says, looking at Hiroto with one of those sultry, mischievous glances he gives the camera during photoshoots, the ones designed to make fangirls sigh and moan and squirm a little in their seats. You could multiply the effect on fangirls times a hundred, with what it was doing to Hiroto.

"Please," Hiroto replies breathlessly. "Please make me come, Shou!" All right, Shou had won this round. They were even.

"Since you asked so nicely . . ." And Shou reaches down with one hand, wrapping the fingers around Hiroto's erection and stroking rapidly. He knows by now what his lover likes, where he's sensitive, how it makes him purr and moan if Shou sweeps his thumb over the tip every few strokes. He intends to use every one of those tricks . . . and add something else.

Which is using the other hand to bring Hiroto's hand to his mouth and continue what he was doing before. His tongue begins to trace along each finger before he slides it into his mouth, sucking on it and teasing it with his tongue. Hiroto lets out a cry of "Oh, my God!" as he feels himself start to slowly burn up . . . in the nicest possible way. The direct stimulation on his cock, the fingers sliding along his shaft, teasing under the head, caressing the base . . . and at the same time, the attention being paid to his personal hot zone, the hot tongue caressing his fingers as they slide in and out of the wet, hot softness that is Shou's mouth . . .

It doesn't take long before he's moaning as loudly as Shou was earlier, crying out, "Oh, oh, yes, Shou, yes, I'm almost there, I'm so close . . ."

Shou puts three fingers into his mouth, sliding down on then almost to the botttom, and his other hand caresses Hiroto's erection in a rapid motion, the thumb brushing over the tip, willing the other man to go over the edge, to experience the same ecstasy he felt. And finally, Hiroto arches upward as Shou did, letting out a similar loud cry as sensation sweeps through him, his seed pouring over his lover's hand. Shou takes Hiroto's fingers out of his mouth only to bring their lips together in a soft kiss.

"I love you," Shou murmurs. "More than I ever thought possible."

"I love you too," Hiroto replies, nestling against his lover, smelling the same familiar combination of scents he had earlier tonight - only now with the sweat and musk of their lovemaking mixed in. It's all sweeter to him than the most exotic perfume.

Shou reaches over and finds a tissue, cleaning his hand off, and then they settle into their usual sleeping position, Hiroto's head on Shou's chest and their arms around each other. And as they drift off, he murmurs to his lover the words he'd said at the end of that song, in English and buried deep in the mix . . . only now in Japanese, and with nothing covering them, because now, he's ready for them to be clearly heard:

_Absolutely opposed element_  
Light and shadow  
Heaven and earth  
Birth and death  
Hatred and love  
U and I  
They resemble each other like twins  
From the moon to the earth  
During a life as a short journey  
I thank god I could meet you who is my other half…a piece of me…  
Distant is close  
one is two  
In GEMINI of eternity


End file.
